Free Steppenwolf by David Horrocks Hermann Hesse David Horrocks Hermann Hesse

social and moral proprieties were religiously observed, and deep down part of him still constantly clung to the prescribed norms of that world. This even continued to be the case long after he had established his own individual identity to a degree that would have been impossible within the confines of the bourgeoisie and had long since liberated himself from the burden of its ideals and beliefs.
    Now, what we call ‘the bourgeois’ is an ever-present aspect of the human condition. It is nothing more than an attempted compromise, a striving for a balanced middle ground between the countless extremes and binary opposites of human behaviour. If we take any one of these binary opposites as an example, say that of the saint and the profligate, the sense of our metaphor will be immediately apparent. It is possible for human beings to devote themselves totally to things spiritual, to aspire to something approaching the divine, the ideal of sainthood. Conversely, they may devote themselves totally to their carnal urges, the demands of their senses, investing all their energy in the pursuit of instant gratification. One of these routes leads to the saint: the martyr to things spiritual, self-surrender to God. The other leads to the profligate: the martyr to carnal urges, self-surrender to corruption of theflesh. Members of the bourgeoisie will typically try to lead a life in the temperate zone between the two. They will never surrender themselves, never devote themselves either to dissipation or to asceticism. They will never be martyrs, never acquiesce in their own destruction; on the contrary: their ideal is not self-surrender but self-preservation. Neither sanctity nor its opposite is the goal they strive for; for them absolute goals are intolerable. They do wish to serve God, but they also give Bacchus his due, and although they want to be virtuous they are not entirely averse to earthly pleasures and creature comforts. In short, they attempt to put down roots midway between two extremes, in a bland and temperate zone without strong winds and rainstorms. Their attempt succeeds too, yet at the expense of all those intense experiences and emotions that only a life devoted to absolute and extreme goals can afford. Intensity of life is only possible at the
expense of self. But there is nothing members of the bourgeoisie value more highly than self, albeit only at a rudimentary stage of development. Thus, at the expense of intensity, they manage to preserve their selves and make them secure. Instead of possession by God, an easy conscience is the reward they reap; instead of desire, contentment; instead of liberty, cosiness; instead of life-threatening heat, an agreeable temperature. Members of the bourgeoisie are therefore essentially creatures weak in vital energy, timid individuals, afraid ever to abandon themselves, easy to govern. That is why they have replaced power by majority rule, replaced force by the rule of law, and replaced responsibility by the ballot box.
    It is clear that these weak and timid creatures, however high their numbers, cannot sustain themselves. By virtue of their characteristics the only role they could possibly play in the world is that of a flock of sheep among free-roaming wolves. Yet although members of the bourgeoisie are the first to go to the wall in periods when very forceful natures hold power, we never witness their extinction. At times they even seem to rule the world. How is this possible? Neither their numerical strength, nor their virtue; neither what the English call their ‘common sense’, nor their organization would be strong enough to save them from extinction. People of their sort, whose vital energy is so sapped from the outset, cannot be kept alive by any medicine known to man. And yet the bourgeoisie survives, is strong, thrives. – Why?
    The answer is because of the lone wolves. The fact is that the vital strength of the bourgeoisie is by no means based on the characteristicsof